


The Mullet

by orphan_account



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Crazy Cat Lady Jonathan Toews, Journalism, M/M, Masterchef references, wow i don't know anything about the journalism field as a profession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 21:30:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2556413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The picture is of the Mullet, his arm wrapped around Jonny’s waist and tugging him backwards, with his foot poised just above the delicate eye ware.<br/>Jonny’s thankful because they cost him a ton.<br/>He’s also super bitter, because he’s a cat person, but also because again his job is turning from being a reporter into being the damsel in distress.<br/>This is not Spiderman. There will be no upside-down kisses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mullet

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this took me a total of 2-3 months and I am SO ecstatic that it's done. The Mullet is an idea that I've been sitting on for a while but I always found it hard to write because I do not like superheroes or anything. So yeah, expect something entirely ridiculous and weird.  
> Also, side note: I know literally nothing about being a journalist.

“Do you know how many people want your job, how many applications we went through until we chose you?” Sharpy is always upbeat and friendly, smiling at everyone, especially the new guys, but right now he’s glaring straight into Jonny’s soul.

“Yes, but..,” Jonny tries.

“But what?” Sharpy crosses his arms in front of his chest. “We’re here to sell papers, to give the people what they _want_ to read. The internet is taking almost all of our business. Newspapers are going into the ground, and journalists are losing jobs left and right, and you have the nerve to tell me _no_?”

“It’s not that, it’s just..,” Jonny pauses, waiting for Sharpy to cut him off. The older man doesn’t, so Jonny clears his throat and continues. “But what about the homeless problem? If the papers don’t incite action in the people, then no one is going to fix the problem! And the erosion of small business, they’re being taken over by corporate giants. Where are the blurbs for Small Business Sunday? I have so many ideas we could run with! Important things that are actually important to people. A superhero can wait.”

Sharpy sighs and shakes his head, “I get where you’re coming from, we all want to save the world. There comes a time though, where you have to step back and leave the saving to the real heroes.” He points out the window like he expects The Mullet to fly by right then. “Do your job, Jonny.”

 

\---------

 

Jonny loves his job a lot, and he definitely doesn’t want to risk losing it, but this is _not_ why he chose to become a journalist. He doesn’t choose to walk around with a bulky camera hanging from his neck and a notepad in hand because he wants to follow a comic book character around. No, Jonny wants to make a difference somewhere, to the people. Jonny wants to _do_ and not just observe; he wants to improve people’s lives. But he loves his job, can’t imagine doing anything else, and so he’s stuck writing about The City’s own Superman, The Mullet.

Now he’s not bashing the do-gooder. He’s all for saving the day and stopping infrastructure disasters. He just wishes they could have put someone else on the task—maybe the intern, Brandon, wouldn’t mind.

But Jonny sucks it up. He puts his glasses on his nose, his camera around his neck, and his pen behind his ear.

The alert Jonny has set up on his phone says The Mullet was just seen walking into the bank he’s parked across the street from. The police around him say there was a hostage situation going on inside, and they just let the kid waltz right on in.

Jonny tries really hard not to roll his eyes at them before walking back to his car and jotting down notes about how the sky is an ominous blue and the police lights reflect off of all the windows around them.

It doesn’t take long for the news vans to show up and for nicely dressed men and women to jump out of them with mics already in hand. Jonny can’t imagine loving the sound of his own voice enough to talk into a camera all day. He’d rather be behind it—besides, Sharpy says his face is too sharp and serious for TV anyway.

Five minutes later, everyone around Jonny starts clapping. He jots that detail down before looking up and seeing The Mullet strut right on out of the bank with two men in masks and striped shirts slung over his shoulders.

Jonny raises his camera to his face and _click._

It’s front page material for sure.

 

\--------

 

It’s, apparently, not front page material at all. Actually, none of his photos make the article that _he_ wrote. Oh no, the picture they decide to use is from 10 minutes later when Jonny was walking around to the other side of his car to stash his notes when he tripped. He just tripped, it was no big deal--yet within seconds big arms pulled him up and held him bridal style for a full second before putting him upright on the concrete.

So yeah, instead of the heroic picture Jonny snapped of The Mullet walking out of the bank carrying the bad guys like sacks of flour, the front page is plastered with Jonny looking up at The Mullet with wide-eyed fascination.

He looks stupid.

He hates it.

 

\----------

 

With the shit Jonny has to deal with at work it’s not a surprise that he stops at a small coffee shop near his apartment before and after his workday. The cup in the morning is important for survival, waking him up enough to deal with Sharpy. The cup in the afternoon brings him down enough to go home and watch Masterchef with his cats, Lemon and Bucket.

Seeing as he’s a creature of habit, it is always the same coffee shop—quaint with dark wood floors and a forest green sign above the door. He goes in, gets the same coffee every time, sits in the same spot by the window and reads the paper from the day before.

It’s nice.

It’s even nicer, however, when his favorite barista is working. The guy has messy blonde hair, sharp blue eyes, and the friendliest grin known to mankind. All their conversations have been small talk at best, but Jonny swears the coffee is better on the days he’s working.

The barista, whose nametag claims his name is Patrick, isn’t there when Jonny goes in that morning. It sucks, too, because he wants to relax with good coffee and... a good view.

 

\--------

 

Jonny checks his email when he gets home; he always does. He doesn’t get a lot of work related stuff, and if he does it’s all from Sharpy with due dates and work hours. What he does get a lot of, however, are things from his family, his mother being worried that he’ll die old and alone and whatever random shit his brother found while surfing the web that day.

Jonny clicks on the email from his mom and reads it slowly trying not to roll his eyes. He doesn’t care what she says, cats are totally an acceptable replacement for humans. They don’t talk back, and they’re just as fed up with everyone as he is. Plus they’re cute, and they cuddle.

Jonny doesn’t need a boyfriend, he doesn’t need a girlfriend, he’s _fine._

He responds with something about just focusing on work and how when his career sets off maybe he’ll set aside time then but that it’s not a priority. It’s the type of thing he says to his mom _all the time_ but she never listens to.

When he clicks the email from his brother, he should have been more prepared for the article he wrote to be attached. He rolls his eyes when he reads the giddiness his brother is exuding at the picture they had chosen.

He freaking hates Sharpy. Seriously.

Jonny doesn’t dignify the email with a response and just closes his laptop and stands up, walking over and face planting on his bed, breathing into the comforter.

It doesn’t take long before something jumps on the bed, depressing the mattress as it approaches him. When the small little paws step on his back, he knows it’s Bucket and turns his head to the side so he can properly hear the cooing.

As Bucket curls up on his back to sleep, Jonny catches the eye of Lemon who is perched atop the bookcase and looking down at them both with an air of superiority.

Yeah, who needs romance when you have cats?

 

\-------

 

10:32 am

_The Mullet spotted flying toward downtown_

10:34 am

_Police radios indicate a mugging—may be related_

 

Jonny grabs his phone from his desk and shoves it into his coat pocket before snatching up his camera and notepad and dashing for the door. Thankfully, no one is in the hallway to get into his way as he runs at full speed all the way down to his car.

Taking his phone from his pocket, Jonny hurriedly presses speed dial and then puts his phone to his ear as he waits for TJ to pick up.

“What’s up?” TJ asks.

“I’m on the freaking Mullet case again,” Jonny mutters as he turns his car on and throws it into reverse. “I need you to get me the exact address of where he’s located. It should be on police scanners. And hurry. Seriously. I’m on my way now.”

“Yes, sir,” TJ says, his voice light and airy.

With TJ humming in his ear, Jonny quickly heads towards the general area of downtown once he’s backed out of his space.

 

\--------

 

With the exact location that TJ had given him, Jonny ends up being the first reporter there, even before the news vans.

He always likes to give himself a pat on the back when he gets there before the news vans, because even with all their high tech radar stuff they still don’t have the genius that is TJ Oshie. If anyone was to question why Jonny had been so successful at such a young age they could immediately link it to that man. The man who literally sends him updates on every story he has, has access to police scanners and also (maybe illegally, Jonny never asked) one of those websites you need a weird IP address to access.

Every reporter should have a private investigator best friend; it makes life so much easier.

The Mullet, in his red outfit and thick rimmed glasses that mimic Jonny’s own, has a foot on the bad guys back as an old lady thanks him over and over. It’s another awesome picture for the front page, so Jonny snaps it.

Maybe he’s not fond of the fact that he’s stuck following this guy around, but he still wants to do his job, and that just happens to be making him look really good in the eyes of everyone else. Vigilante justice supporters have gone up in the last year since The Mullet appeared.

 

\-------

 

Jonny’s an idiot, and now everyone knows it.

For some reason none of his photography is good enough to end up on the first page because again it is overtaken by some random passerby’s amateur shot of Jonny being saved by The Mullet. Well, Jonny wasn’t being saved--his glasses were.

The stupid things had tumbled off of his nose and landed on the ground. Jonny can’t see shit without his glasses, so he had gone searching for them.

The picture is of the Mullet, his arm wrapped around Jonny’s waist and tugging him backwards, with his foot poised just above the delicate eye ware.

Jonny’s thankful because they cost him a ton.

He’s also super bitter, because he’s a cat person, but also because again his job is turning from being a reporter into being the damsel in distress.

This is not Spiderman. There will be no upside-down kisses.

 

\--------

 

Pat is working that day, thank God. Jonny even gives him a really happy smile when he walks in to show how pleased he is. And he might be making it up but he’s pretty sure the blonde blushes and looks down before going to go make what Jonny assumes is his regular.

There are only two other people in the shop but Jonny’s not surprised—they’re a lot busier in the morning.

“Here you go,” Pat says when Jonny approaches the counter, “the usual,” he adds with a smile.

Jonny nods and puts down a few dollar bills and exact change on the counter. “I need it for sure.”

“Bad day?” Pat asks.

“You should see the work I’ve been doing,” Jonny shook his head. “I’ve been writing my ass off for this paper, and how do they reward me? By showing the world just how stupid I am on the front page.”

“You’re not stupid,” Pat says immediately. “I mean everyone trips sometimes, and when your glasses fall off it’s not like you can _see_. Trust me, no one thinks you’re stupid,”

Jonny perks up, “So you read it?”

“Oh,” Pat blushes again, “I mean yeah, you’re a…you’re a good writer? Plus I like seeing what people say about m…The Mullet, and you do have the best coverage.”

Jonny grins and shrugs. “I have my ways.”

Pat laughs. “Well, keep up the good work.”

“Definitely.”

Jonny goes home that night not feeling bad in the slightest about the picture they chose for the front page.

 

\---------

 

“It’s a little weird,” TJ says over the phone, “I heard nothing about this from any of my sources, yet the kid knew exactly where to go. I mean, where does he get his information? Has he developed echolocation for trouble or something?”

Jonny presses a hand to his face and lets out a shaky breath, “Listen, I’m sorry you’re upset that he’s better at this than you, but I’m pretty sure I was just held at gun point! I need better friends.”

“What?” TJ asks blandly, “What do you want me to say Jonny? Do you want me to go on a tangent about how glad I am that you survived and how life would just totally suck without you? You know you’d hate that shit.” It’s true--Jonny hates sentimental things.“But don’t you think it’s weird? Like what if The Mullet is stalking you or something? Maybe he’s who you should be looking for.”

“Ooo” Jonny says, “the superhero turned psycho stalker, I like it, total breakthrough article.” He sighs, “Whatever, the hospital should be releasing me soon, I don’t have any injuries.”

“Need me to pick you up?” TJ asks.

“If you could…”

“I’ll be right there.”

Putting down his phone, Jonny takes another shaky breath and presses his fingers into his ribcage to make sure he’s still put together right. Nothing on him hurts except that his legs and lungs feel remarkably shaky under his skin.

He had gone out to dinner with guys from work and decided to walk his way back to his apartment. Now, Jonny knows he doesn’t live in the best part of town, but it’s not like he knew some random guy would grab him, drag him into an alleyway and hold him at gunpoint, demanding Jonny give him his cards and write down all his account information. Jonny was just about to give it all to him when a rush of air shot down the alley, and all of a sudden, the man was gone.

Jonny blinked and when he heard a groan he turned to look down at the end of the alley  where The Mullet was punching the man repeatedly in the face. Jonny had dashed down and grabbed at The Mullet’s arm, telling him to just stop.

The Mullet stared into his eyes and without saying a word, swooped him up and flew him to the ER.

Maybe he is a fucking damsel in distress.

 

\--------

 

“I can’t believe Sharpy made me write this article,” Jonny groans as he grabs the newspaper from the rack to the side. “I’m thankful and all that The Mullet was there but I don’t need the whole city to know he saved me.”

“No one reads the newspaper,” Pat says, looking up from the floor he was mopping. “Besides, it’s cute, it’s like The Mullet has a crush on you.”

“Ugh” Jonny grans. He rests his forehead on the table. “My life is already stressful enough as a reporter. I do not need a boyfriend who is flying around the city saving everyone’s life. That’s like dating a cop, but worse.”

Pat makes a small noise and when Jonny looks up he just shakes his head.

“Have you even talked to the guy?” Pat asks.

“Have you?” Jonny shoots back.

Pat shrugs. “I guess kind of..,” he shakes his head once again, like that’s how he empties it of thoughts he doesn’t want to revisit. “I’m just saying, if he’s into you, and you’re single, maybe the guy deserves a chance.”

Jonny sighs. “No thanks, I’m good.”

He feels like he’s talking to his mother.

 

\---------

 

That night, when Jonny’s in bed, he turns to his side to search out Lemon in the darkness. As always, Bucket is curled up on the pillow above his head and Lemon is lurking in the dark.

When he meets Lemon’s eye, the cat shakes her head vigorously and then licks her paw, rubbing at her ears.

 _Oh,_ Jonny thinks, _Maybe I’m a little into Pat._

 

\-----------

 

Since Lemon was the one who basically told him he was in love with Pat, Jonny goes to her to see what he should do. As usual, she glares at him like he’s an idiot and licks at her paw, completely disinterested.

Jonny supposes she’s right, people aren’t really worth his time.

But Pat is…he’s _Pat_. He makes the best coffee in the world, is actually the most adorable thing since Bucket, and listens to Jonny every time he talks. What else does he need? Besides, he’s definitely a better option than some superhero who can fly and has super strength.

“I don’t care what you say, Lemon,” Jonny starts. “I really like this guy and maybe my mom will shut up if I do something about it.”

Lemon blinks once and looks back down to lick at her paw again.

“And his coffee, if you liked coffee you’d understand,” Jonny shakes his head, “I’m an adult; I want him; I can have him…except…except he thinks I should date The Mullet, oh god.” Jonny’s palm comes up and smacks him in the forehead. “If The Mullet keeps saving me, and it keeps being plastered on newspapers, he’s really going to think The Mullet and I are, like, soulmates. This is bad, Lemon.”

Her judgmental gaze says “I know” more clearly than if she actually talked. God, his cat might be right.

 

\---------

 

The Mullet lays low for a few days after that and that gives Jonny some time to work on smaller projects he had been tracking, but it’s also time to talk up the pretty barista he’s so enamored with. He hasn’t tried to flirt with anyone for at least a year, so he’s a little rusty, but it’s easy to pretend that Pat is laughing with him and not at him.

So everything slows down with not much at work but Jonny’s really okay with that, he has always liked it better this way even if Sharpy is getting anxious.

“The Mullet is what keeps us afloat,” Sharpy groans when they catch lunch that day.

“Well then, I’m flattered you put me on the case,”

“There’s something about you kid,” Sharpy nods. “You always end up at the right place, you’re one of the best writers we have…and you look like a dork half the time, and the readers _love_ the whole victim part that you play so well.”

Jonny rolls his eyes. “It’s The City, he’ll be back at some point. The people here aren’t the most well-behaved.”

Sharpy shrugs and stares longingly into his glass of water. “I hope so.”

“Yeah, god forbid we run the Small Business Sunday story, or you know, anything important.”

“Seriously kid,” Sharpy says, “if you want to save the world, start a Facebook page. We need to earn money here, not _just_ do the right thing. I can’t have the guys from the internet department bragging about traffic anymore.”

“Welcome to the future.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sharpy sighs. “It sucks.”

 

\-----------

Jonny runs out of things like cat food quite a bit, and because of that he finds himself in the grocery store by his apartment once a week. He’s a pretty easy eater, but his cats are not. Which is why it sucks so much that the pet aisle is missing his cats’ very particular food.

“No,” Jonny whispers in terror when he first sees it. Lemon will not stand for anything less than her favorite, and Bucket will only eat what he sees the grown ups eat first.

After standing there in horror for five minutes, Jonny yanks his phone from his pocket and dials TJ immediately.

“What’s up?” TJ asks, his voice is serious like he’s poised over the keyboard of his computer right now…which is fantastic because Jonny has never called him with a more dire problem.

“I need you to check the local grocery stores, stat!” He shouts, waving his arms. The one other lady in the aisle shoots him a look like she’s worried about him.

“Why?” TJ asks, worried and quick, “did you hear that something was going down? There’s nothing on the police scanner about a grocery store,”

“No, no it’s worse than that!”

“What is it?” Now TJ just sounds skeptical which, ahem, no.

“They don’t have the right cat food at the one near my apartment! I need the right cat food.”

There’s a pause before Jonny hears TJ shout, “OH MY GOD,” in the background like he had put his phone down and paced a bit before shouting to his ceiling. Whatever, as long as TJ does his job, he can throw a tantrum.

“TJ” Jonny whines when he hears the phone rustle, indicating that TJ is back in hearing distance.

“Yeah, yeah, what’s the brand?”

 

\-------

 

The grocery store TJ guides him to is not like the one near his apartment at all. It’s big and large and there are people everywhere, even though it’s, like, eight at night. The one near his apartment is a lot more preferable—small with only a few aisles and no more than twenty people in it at this time of night. It’s perfect, but this store is not.

However, they do in fact have the correct cat food, so Jonny is not going to complain too much.

As he leans down to grab it, he hears his name. When he stands back up to see who it is, he’s absolutely giddy to see it’s Pat with a basket by his side full of grapes, boxes of what looks like pasta dishes, a frozen pizza, bread and jars of peanut butter.

“Oh hey,” Jonny says happily,

“Do you usually come here?” Pat asks, “Because I didn’t think you lived in the area,” his blush is immediate, “Not that I uh…know where you live or like, chill outside your apartment just in case something bad happens to you. That’s…like, that’s creepy, and I would never do that even if I had the super powers to stop the bad things from happening, because that’s…that’s just not possible.”

“No,” Jonny grins at him, “you’re right, I don’t live in the area, but the other place wasn’t carrying the cat food I needed, and my cats are very picky, so I, uh, came here instead.”

Pat’s face brightens, “Oh! You have cats?”

“Two of them,” Jonny answers proudly. “Lemon and Bucket,”

“That’s so cute,” Pat gushes. “I wish I had cats but I’m so busy with…things,”

Jonny nods. “My cats are pretty good at taking care of themselves. Bucket likes sleeping in my bed but Lemon doesn’t seem to care if I’m there or not. It’s why I like cats so much: they’re just so…” he wiggled his fingers around trying to get the right words, “independent.”

Pat shrugs and smiles at him brightly, “I’d love to meet them some time.”

“Yeah?”

“For sure,”

They stood there then, just sort of smiling like idiots at each other. It was kind of awesome, and Jonny would be totally cool with standing and smiling at him some more, but then all of the sudden there’s a terrible beeping noise.

“Argh,” Jonny groans and slaps his hands over his ears. “What’s that?”

“Oh!” Pat grabs his phone and presses a button, stopping the noise, “I gotta…I gotta run, okay, see ya Jonny!” and just like that, he’s gone, dashing down the aisle towards the back of the store instead of towards the registers.

Maybe he has something important to get. Jonny can relate; he went all the way across town just to get the right cat food.

 

\-------

 

“Even when The Mullet isn’t anywhere to be found, I have to write about him.” Jonny’s sitting in the coffee shop, at a table closer to the counter so Pat can hear him complain. “Listen to this stupid ass headline: Is The Mullet, Cutting Back? It’s bullshit.”

“Well there hasn’t been a lot going on in the city,” Pat points out. “He can’t show up for everything, so he only shows up for the important stuff, you know?”

“So then why was my mugging considered important?”

“Because he’s looooves you, Jonny, remember?” Pat grins. “I did read your article on the homeless situation though. It was really insightful, kind of wish more news sources wrote about that kind of thing.”

Jonny beams at him. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Pat nods. “Too much of that asshole flying through the sky.”

Warmth blooms inside of Jonny’s chest. God, this kid was perfect.

“Wanna go out sometime?” Jonny asks, surprising both of them.

Pat looks up and stares at him with wide eyes before biting his lip, “Yeah…I mean I yeah I’d…I think I’d like that quite a bit.”

Jonny’s face starts to hurt from smiling so much. “Awesome! That’s awesome.”

 

\--------

 

“So,” Jonny asks, swiveling in the stool he’s sitting at, “what do you…I mean, I’ve done all the talking, what do you like?”

Pat laughs and picks at his French fries on the diner counter, “I don’t know, man. I like hockey and coffee and math.”

“Math?” Jonny startles. “You _like_ math? Like as a hobby, not just a class?”

Pat lets out a beautiful laugh, different from the ones he had given before. It was open and gorgeous and his face was just…wow.

“Yes, Jonny, I like math, like a lot.” His grin becomes smug. “I am basically a genius you could say.”

“Well,” Jonny mutters, “I guess I can’t judge you for that,”

“Oh come on!” Pat shoves at him a little, rocking them both in their seats. “You live with two cats, man.”

“My cats are awesome.”

“So is math,” he sing-songs back. “You have cats, I have numbers. It’s chill, dude.”

“Dude,” Jonny scoffs,

Pat laughed again, the bright one. “You have a problem with the way I speak and the things I like. Come on, you have got to give me something here.”

“You’re cute,” Jonny grins, “and you make good coffee. That’s basically all I look for in a person, so you’re pretty much set. You can say dude and like math all you want but as long as you’re supplying me with caffeine, we’ll get along just fine.”

“You’re such a jerk,” Pat shoves at him again, “but you’re cute too so I think we will definitely be getting along.” His wink made Jonny blush and look back down at his food.

God, this kid.

 

\---------

 

Dating Pat is really awesome. Jonny’s not sure why he chose to be single at all when Pat had sort of been there all along. To make things better, Bucket is absolutely in _love_ with Pat, and Lemon doesn’t judge him as much as she would with other people he brings into his apartment.

It’s amazing.

It’s fantastic.

Pat is the best kisser he’s ever come in contact with and he cuddles like it’s his job. Not to mention he’s intelligent, hilarious, sincere, gentle and basically a storybook prince.

There is a problem, though, and it’s not that big of a deal, not really, but Pat won’t ever let Jonny go over to his house and never talks about what he does in his free time. He’s the type of person to just disappear every now and then and show up with no explanation for his absence.

It’s weird. It’s the kind of thing you’re supposed to look out for if your significant other is a murderer or something. Jonny supposes though, that they haven’t been dating too long, and it’s not really his business, not now anyway.

\--------

 

Jonny saw Pat almost every day before they were dating, but now even on the days Pat isn’t working, they find time to at least talk. He’s working that Monday morning, though, smiling with Jonny’s coffee already ready as he approaches the counter.

“Long day ahead?” Pat asks.

“Depends,” Jonny says. “If The Mullet comes back, then I might have something to do. I’ve run out of ideas at this point, but seeing as I’m still expected to produce…”

Pat bites his lip before he shrugs, “Maybe he’ll make a guest appearance today if I…he can find the time.”

“I wonder what he does in his off time,” Jonny ponders, tapping his chin. “That would be cool, to be able to interview him as a person, instead of a superhero. I mean, the amount of times I’ve had run ins with him he has never said a word to me. You’d have to be messed up, seeing all the things he’s seen.”

“Well,” Pat starts, “I’m sure some of the failures he’s had weigh on him, but for the most part, just knowing he does the best is probably enough for him. He helps people, even one person could make his day better.”

Jonny shrugs, “Maybe, but you have to be a little full of yourself to don a cape and suit like that and fly around the city.”

Pat grimaces before changing the conversation rather effectively. Jonny wants to stay and talk with him for the rest of the day, but he does have work to go to. As he turns to leave, he leans over the counter, kissing Pat easily before turning to walk out of the coffee shop.

Jonny goes through the next steps habitually, putting his coffee on the roof of his car before unlocking it and reaching to grab his coffee as his door opened. That’s where it stops being habit, though, because Jonny’s knee hits his door right as he’s leaning forward, and there’s a tug at his throat.

His head yanks back which is a _bad idea_ , because his tie tightens dangerously. He makes an alarmed noise, flailing a little to go get his door back open, but the fucking thing locked again, and his keys fell to the ground.

This is his life.

“What a way to die” Jonny groans, tugging at the neck of his tie, trying to give himself room to breathe before he chokes to death right there at his car.

He thought he kind of always seemed like he’d be the kind to die this way or like…tripping in a puddle in his bathroom and smashing his head on the sink. Either way, it’s not heroic or outstanding. It’s one of those deaths that would end up on the paper with people commenting, “What an idiot, who closes their tie in their door and chokes to death?”

Yeah. That’ll be Jonny’s legacy when this is all said and done.

All of the sudden, though, there’s a shadow over him, and he doesn’t even have to look to guess that The Mullet decided to make his return while Jonny was being an idiot…again. Part of him wants to turn to the guy and apologize for being the stupidest person in the city, but before he knew it his door was opening, the tie loosening and he could breathe.

He turns just in time to see The Mullet smirk at him before leaping back into the air and zooming away.

Jonny stares up in awe before his mouth slams shut, and he looks back into the coffee shop to see if Pat had seen any of that. Fortunately, Jonny can’t see Pat at the counter at all, or at least anywhere near the windows, so he was probably safe.

 

\--------

 

“Morning, Jonny,” Sharpy says offhandedly when they pass each other in the hallway.

“Hey,” Jonny stops him, “The Mullet’s back.” He smirks.

Sharpy perks up at that immediately. The guy is the smiling type, positive almost all of the time. When Jonny goes to lunch with Sharpy and a few of the other guys, he’s the one always teasing and joking around. The paper, though, is different, it’s Sharpy’s everything and Jonny figured that out on day one. He puts his heart and soul into the thing, and despite popular belief, he could be serious about the things he really cares for.

So maybe Jonny isn’t totally stoked to cover The Mullet, but Sharpy haa a nice smile and he is (ultimately) a nice friend. Jonny’s argument that cats are as good as people still stands but they don’t smile at you like that.

“What happened? Did you witness it?”

“I…uhh,” Jonny shrugs, “got my tie locked in my car and he saved me.”

Sharpy’s face twitches like he’s trying not to laugh before saying, “Very good, Jonny. Glad you’re alive enough to work.”

“It’s my year,” he says sarcastically,

“Obviously,” Sharpy nods. “Start on that article, but keep your eye open for more activity today.”

 

\--------

 

There is a lot of activity that day. It’s like The Mullet heard him complain about the fact that he was never around anymore. But now, with the amount of old ladies he saved from getting their purses stolen and the art thieves he busted, there’s enough to write five articles, not just one.

Sharpy is basically sparkling by the end of the day, and Jonny is just glad to have something to do.

 

\----------

Jonny’s making a sandwich when his mom calls him.

“Hey,” Jonny mutters as he lays the deli sliced corned beef out neatly on the piece of bread. “What’s up?” although he’s pretty sure why she called.

“Not much,” she sang easily in her comfortably warm voice, “just wanted to check up on you…. How are you and Pat?” _Ding ding ding_.

“We’re good,” Jonny says, bored. “He’s still dating me so that must be a good sign. Lemon thinks he’s cool, too, so that must mean something, right? I mean, she doesn’t like just anyone.”

He hears her disappointed huff before she says, “You can’t just base your judgement of people off of what faces your cats make.”

“Why not?” Jonny asks honestly, “They’re smart animals, you know. They can make anywhere between 60 and 110 different sounds. I mean, some of the ones in the wild can even make noises to attract prey. There’s one that hangs out in jungles and mimics the noise of the monkeys, and then this other one—”

“So what did you say Pat does for a living then?”

Jonny pouts as he puts lettuce and cheese on his sandwich next—cat facts are really cool. He should be excused for going on a tangent.

“I didn’t,” Jonny mutters, “He works at the coffee shop I stop at before work. Besides that, I assume he goes to school, but I haven’t really asked him.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Jonny shrugs as he spreads Mayonnaise on the piece of bread not currently stacked with the rest of his food. “He’s usually so interested in what I’m doing that we never really get around to talking about him. He doesn’t seem to really enjoy it that much honestly…”

“Huh, weird.” There’s a teasing tint to her voice when she says, “Maybe you really found the perfect one; he’ll listen to you rant about cats all day I bet.”

“He does” Jonny says, “It’s the best,”

“Oh well, I’m glad you’re well. Tell the cats and Pat I said hello.”

 

\---------

 

Jonny loves his apartment, but it’s very small, it’s definitely not a place to invite Pat over to for something beyond just cuddling and watching Masterchef. But when he does invite Pat over for Masterchef, it’s all awesome.

“Why is Cutter still in the game? Oh my god, he’s not even that good, and Christian went home before him? That’s not...ugh that’s so unfair. I hope when he does leave he stabs Leslie on the way out.”

He is so into it; it was endearing.

Of course Jonny is also shouting similar things at the TV, because it was unfair that Christian left before Cutter (it was because he had to cook the brain, if he had gotten anything else he would have rocked it and went on to win).

So yeah, hanging out at Jonny’s place is great, but it isn’t the place for dinner. Jonny is fine with restaurants, but neither of them have the money for it, so Jonny suggests they go to Pat’s place for dinner.

It’s totally normal and definitely doesn’t deserve a straight up no without further explanation.

“What…why?” Jonny asks.

“Now is not the time” Pat says, looking up anxiously at the line building behind Jonny, “seriously it’s busy here, can we just talk about it later?”

They don’t talk about it later.

Jonny doesn’t think that’s fair.

 

\-----------

 

The next day at work there’s a knock on the wall near Jonny’s desk. He raises his eyes slowly and sees a man he’s never seen before standing in the doorway. The man smiles at Jonny nicely before moving right into the chair in front of Jonny’s desk like he was invited.

Jonny frowns.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

“Yes,” he smiles and sticks his hand out. Jonny shakes it cautiously, “I’m Ilya Bryzgalov—you can call me Bryz—and I work for the internet department. Well I’m the editor for it, really, and honestly, we love your work over there,” he seems sincere, but Jonny doesn’t like where this is going. “We’d love to offer you a job, covering The Mullet, but for us, where people will actually read your work.”

“Oh, well…” Jonny trails off, “that seems great and all, but I really like my job over here better.”

“We’re prepared to pay you more, I mean, we’ll be able to. The print department over here is a dump in comparison. No one reads newspapers anymore. You’ll be a star reporter over there. Here you’re just…a kid with a camera.”

“So?” Jonny bites at him, “I like my camera, and I like working here. If I wanted to be a star reporter, I would have moved to the internet a lot earlier. I like newspapers; I like that they’re tangible.”

“I see,” Bryz doesn’t seem impressed. “Well you’re passing up a huge opportunity.”

“Sure.”

“If you change your mind, let me know,”

“I won’t,” Jonny insists.

“You _will_ learn to regret this,” are the ominous words that Bryz leaves him with as he exits.

What a weirdo.

 

\--------

 

“Holding hands is so important,” Pat whines as he grabs Jonny by the wrist forcefully. “Seriously, do you know how easily I get lost?”

Jonny scoffs and rolls his eyes towards the sky. There aren’t even that many people around, and it’s bright out, so it isn’t like Jonny is just going to let Pat get lost or whatever. He may have eye problems, but he isn’t blind.

He isn’t gonna argue the holding hands thing, though. That’s fine with him.

Pat shoots him a smile when their fingers interlock.

It’s a really nice day out. Jonny has his sleeves rolled up to his elbow and every now and then there’s a breeze that shoots a little chill up his spine, but that’s all. Besides that, just being near Pat kind of qualifies the day as nice—whether they were curled up on the bed watching Masterchef or they were at a restaurant neither of them could really afford.

“So get this,” Jonny says as they’re sitting on a park bench, “while I was working the other day, this creepy dude from the internet department came in and tried to get me to move over there.”

“Sounds terrifying,” Pat says drily.

Jonny glowers, “It was. He was weird. I told him I didn’t want the job and he did this weird exit where he pointed his finger at me and said, ‘you’ll regret this,’” Jonny wiggles his fingers. “It was just odd.”

“What’s this guys name?”

“Something Russian,” Jonny shrugs. “Ilya, something or other, told me to call him Bryz?”

“Bryz?” Pat perks up. “You talked to Bryz?”

“Well…uh…yeah?” Jonny frowns. “He’s the editor of the internet department, and he just waltzed into my office. I didn’t...you know him?”

Pat shakes his head and sighs. “Unbelievable,” he curses under his breath.

“What?” Jonny frowns,

“Nothing,” Pat puts his hand on Jonny’s thigh and stares into his eyes intently. “Don’t hang around that guy, alright? He’s bad news.”

Jonny smiles softly, “I can take care of myself.” He places his hand on top of Pat’s and strokes gently with the tips of his fingers. “And if not, well, I still have my secret admirer.”

Pat cast his eyes to the sky like The Mullet would fly by right then.

“Yeah Jonny, you do,”

 

\-------

 

Jonny leaves an angry message on Pat’s phone because Pat’s an asshole. Their date was going really well—there was _a lot_ of handholding going on and they even stopped for ice cream. It’s just, when Jonny was paying he turned back around to see Pat and his ice cream gone, like vanished out of thin air.

“What the fuck,” Jonny whispers to the empty space,

“Sorry sir, we can’t give you a refund,” the man at the stand says.

Jonny whirls back around. “Did you see where he went?” he asks.

The man shakes his head and apologizes once again.

So yeah, Jonny is pissed. He spent money on two ice cream cones he won’t get to have and a boy who completely vanished on him. He’s been stood up before but never _in the middle_ of a date.

He’s so angry when he hangs up his phone that he turns it off completely and stashes it under his bed to keep himself from turning it back on. He doesn’t need Pat when he has Gordon Ramsay critiquing someone else’s food on his TV and two cats who don’t abandon him.

By the time he’s watching reruns of the season three finale of Masterchef for the third time, even Lemon jumps onto his lap and purrs softly.

Jonny tries really hard not to just break down and cry that night.

It’s not worth it.

 

\-------

 

“Jonny…come on!” Pat shouts through the door after Jonny closes it in his face. “I’m really sorry about the other night! Serious. I brought ice cream with me to make up for it,”

Jonny doesn’t say anything but he stands near his door anyway, hoping Pat can feel himself being ignored.

“Just open up, really. Let me talk.”

“I don’t want to, Pat” Jonny says back. “Leave,”

“I’m not going to,” Pat says back. “I’ll stay here all night if I have to. Business is slow.”

Jonny rolls his eyes, “Good to know where I stand then,”

He hears Pat stuttering, “Don’t make me force my way through this door,” it’s a threat but Jonny doesn’t take him seriously because he’s significantly shorter than Jonny and definitely doesn’t weigh anywhere near him.

“Night, Pat,” Jonny says back before walking away from his door and turning on his TV, just to drown out any response.

 

\-------

 

Jonny goes to a different coffee shop after that. He can’t face Pat anymore—mostly because he’s a wimp but also because he’s terrible with confrontation and Pat seems determined to confront him. He misses Pat, though, really, really bad…also his coffee.

Jonny blames his mom completely for this, for trying to get him dating. It was a really bad idea, and he should have listened to his cats all along. They always know what’s best for him, and they love him and aren’t weird boys who don’t let him go to their apartments or randomly disappear on him when he’s taking them on a date.

Yeah, cats rule, and Pat drools.

 

\-------

 

The Mullet disappears after that, which has no connection to Jonny’s relationship whatsoever, but it does make work a little harder. Jonny started off the job with so many ideas but now he’s used all of them up the last time The Mullet went MIA. And even more sadly, Sharpy is basically right, no one reads Jonny’s stuff on anything but The Mullet. After a few days, even Jonny notices papers stacking up in the new coffee shop he goes to and notices less of them used in trashcans.

The result is that Sharpy is agitated in his quiet, brooding way.  An upset Sharpy is the most ominous thing anyone working in the office faces, because it rarely happens unless something is legitimately wrong.

Seabs, the sports guy, waltzes into Jonny’s office one day and plops down in the seat in front of Jonny’s desk.

“We gotta do something” he sighs,

“Yeah?” Jonny asks. “What do you want me to do, summon The Mullet?”

Seabs face is carefully neutral for a few seconds before he beams. “Yeah!” he exclaims. “That’s a good idea actually!”

Jonny sputters, “What the fuck? In what world is that a good idea?”

“This one, you know with all of our jobs on the line if the newspaper goes down the toilet. You know what everyone’s saying, how fucked we are going into the digital age. The paper means everything to Sharpy but also to you, I know that, and to me and to Brandon The Intern and to Duncs…” Seabs trails off, “The Mullet shows up whenever you’re in danger. That’s a superpower in and of itself…. Use it, man; save our lives.”

“Fuck,” Jonny sighs. It’s a pretty good idea.

 

\-------

 

To summon The Mullet, Jonny needs to be in serious trouble and get saved. However, Jonny isn’t really willing to risk his life for the paper just yet so he needs to find something that is legitimately dangerous but would only send him home with a few bumps and bruises if left to his own devices.

Jonny has done the held at gunpoint thing. He’s done with that phase of his life.

However, the tie thing worked out pretty well, and while embarrassing, it was generally non-life threatening so he figures he should go that route again. Embarrassing things don’t kill much but his pride and Jonny honestly has very little left thanks to all the other times The Mullet has saved him.

The Mall, he decides, would be the perfect place to plan this. There would be a lot of witnesses that he could interview and also if he ends up seriously hurt and The Mullet doesn’t show up, someone will call an ambulance…hopefully.

He spends about 15 minutes diagramming the escalator and what height he can realistically fall from. Considering its constant mobility it takes Jonny a while before he decides that about a little above half way up is fine—he could probably go higher, but he honestly couldn’t see himself being able to throw himself all the way down the escalator.

In fact, when he gets on the escalator he can’t see himself throwing himself down it at all. It takes him five times going down and then up the other one before he finally decides to just stick his foot out, catching it along the sides and sending him tumbling.

It hurts, but he keeps his head covered and is mostly just disoriented when he hits the bottom, groaning and pressing a hand to his side as he lays on the tile to make sure he’s still put together.

When he looks up there’s a crowd around him.

“Are you alright?” a woman with two children runs up to him to kneel down.

“Y…Yeah I’m okay” Jonny groans and sat up slowly.

“That guy’s crazy! He was going up and down the escalators for the past half hour! And then he just falls down, what the hell were you doing dude?” Some random man in the crowd shouted.

Jonny looks up to glare just in time to see The Mullet floating around the crowd, just above them, watching him.

Jonny leaps up in surprise, pulling his phone from his pocket.

The picture he takes is of The Mullet’s back before he flies away, disappearing out the doors.

It’s weird The Mullet didn’t go to help him, but at least Jonny knows he’ll still show up.

 

\-----

 

Jonny manages to write a small article and gets his photo in it. It’s not front page news, but it’s something. People are forever thirsty for more of The Mullet, and he sees people sitting on benches and in cafes with the paper in front of their nose, open to the page of the article.

Even Sharpy gives a weak smile when he’s reading it over.

It’s worth the bruises Jonny got, even though the one on his side is turning a gross yellow color. He’s fine, though. He’ll be fine.

 

\--------

 

He decides that maybe throwing himself off of things over and over again isn’t the best tactic, so he goes researching. The internet has a wealth of knowledge and he uses it to look up statistics on how not only The Mullet, but the few Superheroes (and Villains) in this world had changed opinions and views of the public

It’s more of an essay than an article but Jonny needs to give Sharpy something.

Jonny finds out that most Superheroes like The Mullet live off of bounties they collect from turning in bad guys to the police.

He runs with it and ends up writing an opinion piece on if superheroes should be paid at all.

 

\------

 

His article gets a lot of reaction, a lot of people writing in with their own opinions.

The Mullet is still nowhere to be seen, though.

 

\-------

 

Jonny takes a few days after that, just to relax and not worry about his failed relationship and failing job. Sitting at home with his cats is one of the best things he could spend his day doing.

Lemon even comes off of her perch on the bookshelf to sit on the bedside table and watch as Bucket and Jonny play on the bed with the TV in the background. It’s fun, even when Bucket’s claw gets stuck in Jonny’s knuckle. A little dot of blood appears but Jonny just gets up to press a torn off strip of paper towel to it before the bleeding stops and he goes back to his cats.

It’s the only time he gets out of bed that day besides going to the bathroom.

He ends up calling for pizza, and about 40 minutes later there’s a knock on his door when he’s watching the TV upside down.

“Dinner time!” He announces as he climbs off his bed and heads to the door with Bucket prancing after him happily, swirling between his legs when he opens the door to let the guy in.

“Hello,” he says when Jonny opens the door. “That’ll be…”

“BUCKET!” Jonny shouts, interrupting him as the small cat darts out of the apartment and down the hall.

“Here!” Jonny throws a twenty at the guy before dashing down the hall leaving his door wide open and the pizza boy standing there with his mouth agape.

Jonny’s not thinking about all that, though. because 1. Lemon won’t run, and 2. Bucket _did_ run. He’s just hoping he can get the baby before he dashes out the door or something—there are always people walking in and out of the building.

By the time Jonny reaches the ground floor, though, it’s too late because the door is opened, and the lady fucking _steps to the side_ and let’s Bucket run out.

“Bucket, no!” Jonny chases after him, his own feet bare.

His heart’s racing by the time he gets out onto the sidewalk and looks back and forth. God, where is he? Jonny won’t be able to sleep until he finds him, Bucket is his _baby_.

He doesn’t see Bucket anywhere, he could be down the block by now for all Jonny knows. He could be hit by a car. He could never be coming back. Bucket could be gone and it’s _all Jonny’s fault_.

He feels angry tears fall down his face, and he rubs at them to make them go away, but he’s just so…. Bucket was part of his family. He was a kitten that Jonny had taken off the streets, and now Jonny has failed him, put him back on the streets. Bucket is going to die, and it’s all his fault.

“Hey! Is that The Mullet!” Someone shouts.

Jonny looks up expectantly and sees that, yes, flying down the street toward him is The Mullet, and he has something tucked in his arms.

“Does he…does he have a _cat_?”

 _Yes, yes_ , in his arms _is_ a cat!

Jonny stands up straighter and reaches towards him, because…because he’d know Bucket anywhere.

The Mullet lands down in front of him gracefully, handing the grey kitten towards Jonny.

“Oh my god,” Jonny sobs grabbing the cat from The Mullet and holding Bucket against his chest, “Oh…oh my god. Thank you so, so much” Jonny looks up at him, “Thank you, thank you.”

The Mullet stares at him slowly and blinks once behind glasses that are oddly like Jonny’s. And then he’s gone before Jonny can think to say anything else, like “Where have you been?”

 

\-------

 

Writing the article about The Mullet saving his cat takes all day. Mostly it’s Jonny gushing about how thankful he is and how _good_ The Mullet is for saving his cat. It’s not too much, though. _It’s not_ , because Bucket is special, and he understands that not everyone will be able to get that. But the way Jonny sees it is kids can be terrible, but cats are perfect forever.

Writing the article is worth it, even if he is labeled the crazy cat lady of the news.

It’s dark by the time he’s packing up to leave, and almost everyone else is gone, besides Brandon The Intern. Brandon’s buried in work though, so Jonny doesn’t disturb him as he makes his way down the stairs.

It’s eerily dark, which makes no sense, because it’s not like it’s _that_ late. Yeah, there aren’t many people left, but it’s not turning-off-the-lights time. Plus it makes everything eerily empty, and when he walks towards the door, his foot steps echo around him, which is also odd because the building isn’t even that big.

“Jonathan.”

Jonny stops in his tracks and turns around.

There’s a shadow standing off to the corner, looking all creepy. When the figure steps into the light from the streets, though, Jonny sees it’s the editor from the internet department, Bryz.

“Hello,” Jonny says, tensing his jaw and standing tall.

“Have you considered my previous offer?” Bryz asks, smiling a slow smile.

Jonny sighs and shakes his head. “I have considered it, but the answer is still no. I love my job with the paper; I love working there. They give me the best opportunity to succeed. I really believe that.”

Bryz tenses at that and shakes his head.

“The internet department is doing well,” Jonny encourages. “We’re just trying to keep the paper afloat; you don’t need me.”

“Unfortunately, Jonathan, that is not the case,” Bryz takes a step towards him. “You’re gonna have to rethink my offer.”

“Um,” Jonny raises an eyebrow, “I don’t think so.”

“Gentlemen,” Bryz says.

There are footsteps echoing through the hall before three big men appear behind Bryz. They all have dark glass over their eyes—even though it’s oddly dark already—and have muscles bulging out of their suits that looked a little too tight to be comfortable.

“Ready to rethink that now?” Bryz asks.

“Are you…are you threatening me?” Jonny asks, indignant.

Bryz shrugs, “Just like you, I will do what I need to in order to keep my department above water. I want to be the absolute best, and you _are_ the absolute best. We need you and we’re not willing to let you walk away. If you won’t write for us, I can’t have you writing for anyone else.”

“Really?” Jonny sputters, “If I can’t have you, no one can? Is that what this is?”

The dark man sighs and shakes his head, “Yes or no, Jonathan?”

“What? Absolutely not, no,” Jonny shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but you have problems.” With that he turns quickly and heads towards the door, but before he could make it, he heard a snap, and then someone’s arm is around his neck. A cloth is placed over his mouth and everything becomes black.

 

\-----

 

The world is swimming and swirling. Jonny has to dig his fingers into the cement below him to make sure he’s grounded, but it doesn’t stop the swirling.

Oh, he feels so sick.

It takes a moment until he registers there are people around him, dark people with hidden faces who are fussing around his feet. His first reaction is to kick but his body is heavy and weighted down, he manages a knee twitch but no more. No one even reacts to him waking up.

Soon the men pull away and Jonny feels a tug on his ankle and glances down—his feet are tied with rope.

“Hey, what?” he croaks out. He wants to ask them why his feet are tied but not his hands. He wants to ask him why he’s tied at all. He wants to ask him why he’s _here_ , but then they’re leaving, and he wants to ask where they’re going.

“Stop, hey!” Jonny calls, his voice is still rough, but he’s making _noise_. The men ignore him though and close the door behind them.

Jonny sits up where he is and leans forward to untie the rope around his legs, because he can do that, considering they didn’t tie up his hands. Really, Jonny’s not sure who they were but they’re obviously not intelligent. Reaching the rope though he realizes it’s tied to the support beam on the ceiling. And then he also realizes he’s in a construction zone. He’s literally in an unfinished building.

God. He’s in deep shit.

He knows this unfinished building too. Duncs had written an article about how they planned to destroy it to make room for a small park. He had asked Jonny to go down and take pictures of it—of course he did, because Jonny is the best photographer working in the whole city. So yes, Jonny knows this building, and even worse, he knows that tomorrow—which terrifyingly might be today—it’s scheduled to be destroyed.

“Oh fuck,” Jonny mutters and returns his fingers to the knots on his legs, reaching to untangle it. The rope is big though, thick and Jonny’s thin fingers aren’t doing shit for him.

“This would be a good time for a superhero to show up!” Jonny shouts, still wrestling with the knot. “You know! One that wears all red and has funky glasses just like mine and is named after a hairstyle that was popular among men in the 1970’s!” he growls as the knot burns his finger. “Fuck…yeah that would be good!”

He doesn’t know how much time passes but he hasn’t made any progress on the rope around his legs when he hears someone approaching the room he’s tied in.

“Hey!” Jonny calls out, looking up, “Hey! Hey! Let me out”

There’s no response but he hears the noise again, and again, and again. Jonny freezes when he realizes it’s behind him and when he arches his neck backwards it’s in time to see the floor cracking all the way toward him.

“No, no way!” Jonny reaches for the knot again. “This is so not happening. Oh my god!”

It’s happening, though, and he still hasn’t made any progress on his knot when the cracks get louder and become actually threatening to his hearing ability.

Apparently though, cement floors don’t break easily. He’s not sure what’s causing it, but it’s not efficient. You’d think that creepy guys in dark glasses with bulging biceps who are controlled by some weird Russian freak would figure this out.

After another 10 minutes or so, Jonny is pretty sure he’s more likely to die of boredom than a collapsing building.

The floor starts breaking—finally—and Jonny can only keep his eyes shut real tight and wrap his arms around his head as the floor falls out below him. He’s pretty sure he should be a little bit more alarmed, but it took quite a while for it to happen, and he had been expecting it. The wait was almost worse than the way the fall whips him around, but he was expecting that, too.

For some reason, he wasn’t expecting his glasses to fall off, but they do, tumbling from his nose and making the rest of the world blurry as the blood rushes to his head almost immediately.

“Oh fuck,” Jonny says, grabbing at his hair and groaning. Hanging upside down is not cool, but it would make a great story. Jonny wishes he had his camera, because from up here, the city actually looks pretty cool, even if all the blood is rushing to his brain. Oh yeah, he also can’t actually see anything, but he’s sure if he could, it would look awesome.

“Yes! My plan has worked. The Mullet should be here in no time!” Jonny hears. A blurry and glowing shape floats up in front of his eyes. “And when The Mullet gets here I’ll have the star reporter and his best subject in one place. The internet department will once again be the best reporter of news!”

“What?” Jonny asks. “You’re using me as bait for The Mullet?”

“Uh…yes.” Jonny’s deduced this glowing floating thing is probably Bryz.

“And when he comes here, what do you plan to do?” Jonny asks. “Fight him?”

“Well yes,” Bryz answers, “when I take him down, you’ll fall to your death and my major problems will be gone.”

“Does the paper know you’re a Super Villain, like did they hire you knowing this or did you grow into this position?” Jonny asks.

“What…why do you care?”

“I’m a Journalist,” Jonny says. “Also, I can’t see shit; all I can do is talk.”

“Well…” Bryz starts, “I mean, I guess I’ve always been a Super Villain. I have electrical control, so you know, that’s not something you can just pretend you don’t have. Journalism was my first choice, though.”

“Ah, interesting,” Jonny says, “so like, The Mullet, does he have a special power is it is just general comic book stuff?”

“Good guys are never interesting. You know they’re all really strong, and fast, and smart…and can fly…. They’re also pretty much immune to most things.”

“So, they’re a lot more useful than you.”

“Well yes, good guys usually win for a reason.”

“Huh,” Jonny says. “When’s he going to get here by the way? My head is starting to get fuzzy.”

“Well, that would be the point”

“Ugh,” Jonny groans, “I’m sick of waiting around.”

It’s true, he is. Jonny has been through a lot of shit since he got this job at the paper, and he’s pretty sure he’s immune to it all now. He wishes his younger self could see himself now—if anyone had ever told him that superheroes would become normal when he was ten, he would have been stoked. He is not stoked. He is hanging by his ankles from a building that is going to collapse.

At least he knows now that the collapse takes a ridiculous amount of time.

Eventually, after Bryz and he stop having another in depth conversation about the state of the modern media, Jonny hears sirens from down below. He’s glad he can’t see actually; he sounds very high up.

“Bryz,” says the voice in the megaphone, “release the man and bring him down here right now.”

Bryz lets out an evil laugh, “You think it’d be that easy?”

“Of course they didn’t.” This voice is strong and noble, oddly familiar, like Jonny’s been listening to it for the past few months. “Now, let him down Bryz, or your situation will get a lot worse.”

“For who?”

“For you.” It’s the Mullet, Jonny can tell by the red shape floating around a little bit to the left. “I’ve beaten you before Bryz, I can do it again,”

There’s an evil cackle. “I wouldn’t think so, not this time, Mullet!”

There’s tingling in Jonny’s face and in his fingers. It’s getting too much and Jonny lets out another groan because it’s starting to actually hurt. His ears start to rush, then purple spots appearing in front of his eyes.

Before he passes out, he feels a hand on the side of his face and wishes Pat could be there.

 

\-------

 

Jonny’s head is _killing_ him when he comes to, but the couch he’s on is nice and cushy. It means that he’s not dead and that he’s not hanging from a building anymore—unless this is some sort of hyper-realistic hallucination.

He blinks his eyes open slowly, his vision completely sharp and in focus.

Jonny’s hand gropes his face slowly, coming in contact with the lenses he’s use to resting on his nose.

“Oh, you’re up.”

Jonny’s face wrinkles in confusion when Pat comes into view.

“How does your head feel?”

“I…what?” Jonny asks sitting up.

“No,” Pat pushes him down gently, “you need to rest, okay? Today has been…a lot for you.”

“What happened exactly?” Jonny groans, pressing his hand to his head, the echo of pain still ricocheting off his skull.

Pat shrugs and sits on the couch next to Jonny’s hip. “We need to talk,”

“Yeah, okay!” Jonny agrees. “Just tell me what happened first.”

Pat shot him a look like that wasn’t the most important thing for them to communicate about right now. Jonny just wanted to make sure he wasn’t freaking out over being hung upside down from a building when it didn’t actually happen.

“Bryz, the guy I told you to stay away from, hung you from a building to try to kill you.”

“Oh, okay, thank god. I wasn’t just imagining that,” Jonny sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “We can talk now.”

“Yeah, about that,” Pat pauses, “so he hung you up as bait for m…The Mullet. And yeah that um…I am The Mullet.”

Jonny lets out a bark of laughter, “Excuse me?” He asks. “No…no way, sorry I mean, you’re like, what? Five feet tall? How are you a superhero?”

Pat scowls, “I am 5 foot 10!”

Jonny gives him a disbelieving look.

“5 foot 8, but that’s not what matters.”

Pat shakes his head, “I am The Mullet, okay? I mean, yeah, that’s what I mean.”

“I don’t believe you, Pat, I’m sorry. I need to get back home.”

“Bucket ran away the other night. I found him trying to cross the street, and I scooped him up and brought him to you. You were in tears over it.”

Jonny shrugs, “I wrote an article on that.”

Pat rolls his eyes. “You threw yourself down an escalator to get me to show up, which, what the fuck were you thinking? Were you drunk?”

“Hey, that would mean you didn’t save me!” Jonny frowns. “That was rude, by the way.”

“You believe me then?” Pat asks, sighing in relief.

“No.”

“Fine!” Pat stands up and walks over to the side table, opening it up and pulling out thick rimmed glasses. He puts them on and turns to Jonny.

“Oh!” Jonny says, all of a sudden he saw the big arms, the broad shoulders…fuck. Pat really was The Mullet. “You really are The Mullet!”

Pat ripps the glasses off. “Really? It’s just a pair of glasses.”

“Well that’s definitely a plot twist.”

“Yeah,” Pat sighs, “that’s why I couldn’t have you here and why I kept disappearing on you. I just had, you know…calls to answer…at the time. I didn’t want to leave you, you know. I just want to be around you a lot, and my job is very…I had no control over it. If I did, I’d be a broke kid working at a coffee shop talking to you every day in a heartbeat.”

Jonny frowns in confusion, “It’s…you left in the middle of the date with my ice cream because you had someone to save? Pat why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Because..,” Pat shrugs, “you said you never wanted to date a superhero, so I just…I wanted to date you, so I lied about who I was, because that’s what you do when you really like someone.”

Jonny smiles. “I wanna date you, Pat.” When he sits up this time, Pat doesn’t push him back down, just grins when Jonny went in for the hug, kissing the side of his face.

“Yeah? I wanna date you too, Jonny,”

 

\-------

 

“So,” Jonny starts as he cuts up the green beans placed in front of him that they’re going to have for dinner, “how do you even become a superhero?”

“Like, in general or me specifically?”

“You,” Jonny answers, “specifically.”

Pat shrugs where he’s working at the stove. “I mean, it’s a long story if you have the patience for it.”

Jonny pauses, “Well uh..,” he shrugs, “maybe I could take it down and write an article about it.”

Pat laughs, “Sure, we can do that.”

When they’re done with dinner—which is really great—Pat makes them both coffee before sitting across from Jonny.

Jonny bites at the end of his pen before jotting down a few descriptive points. “So, Pat…are you like from another planet or something?”

Pat laughs outright at him, “Wh…what? You think I’m an alien? That’s your first theory,” he wipes at his eyes which are starting to water with mirth. “Be creative, please! I’m not actually Superman you know?”

“Give me a break! Just tell me the story if you’re going to make fun of me,” Jonny pouts at him.

“Fine, fine,” Pat shakes him off. “I was 6 when I got the haircut.”

“The haircut?”

“Oh my god, let me finish.”

“Go on.”

“Okay, so yeah, I was six, and my dad took me to get my hair cut. I don’t really know how it happened, but there was this super villain in Buffalo around that time, and he had like these, radioactive scissor things that he tossed at people. They pretty much always killed you, but anyway one pair ended up in the barber shop I guess.” Pat shrugs, like that wasn’t totally weird.

“The barber ended up cutting my hair with them…. It was a mullet, of course. That’s where I got the name from. So yeah. I got the haircut, and I was sick for the next two years; it was terrible. No one knew what was wrong with me, but by the time I was eight, weird things started happening to me. I could run fast, pick up things. I was even floating. It was so weird, man. I mean, I knew about superheroes, but I thought it was just another symptom and that I was dying…. What? I was eight.”

Jonny shrugs to try to hide his skeptical look and goes back to jotting what he said down.

“So you know, turns out I was a superhero. Eight years later, I got the hang of all my powers, and I was just doing small things around Buffalo. But then a few days after my sixteenth birthday, there was a huge shit storm going on down town. The villain with the scissors was still on the rampage, and I was sick of him bullying everyone, so I decided to go after him. I knew I could, at least.”

“You were sixteen?” Jonny gapes, “Now _that’s_ irresponsible.”

“ANYWAY,” Pat interrupts loudly, “the fight was pretty stupid. He was old, and I was still a little inexperienced. I won, though, drove him out of town, and he hasn’t been seen since. That was when I got the recognition, you know? Everyone loved me then,”

Jonny nods, “And then you came here?”

“And then I came here,” Pat reaches over and grabs the pen from his hand. “Writing time is over. It’s bed time now,” he adds, standing up.

“It’s like eight,” Jonny says, looking over to the clock.

Pat purses his lips, “We’re not going to be sleeping.”

Jonny raises an eyebrow, “Then why would we be going to bed this…oh!”

“Yeah,” Pat laughs as Jonny stands up, “never change.”

 

Epilogue

 

At the sound of the door opening and closing, Jonny starts talking right away. “They actually used my photography for the front page this time,” he says, staring down at the picture of Pat—The Mullet—and him kissing upside down. It was cute. He had set up a camera on a timer in perfect position. Dating a superhero has made his career skyrocket.

“This time? That’s awesome,” Pat waltzed into the kitchen. He wasn’t alone, though, if the white ball of fluff in his arm was anything to go by.

“What’s that, Pat?” Jonny asks.

“Her name is Ella,” Pat says and untucks the kitten from his arms to hold her out to Jonny.

She was bright white with shimmering blue eyes. She was gorgeous.

“She’s a princess!” Jonny announces happily, grabbing the cat from Pat and snuggling her against his face. “Where did you get her?”

“I rescued her from a tree today,” Pat says, “but she was from the local shelter, so they just let me keep her. I thought she would be a really great six month anniversary present, plus I mean, Bucket needs someone else to pick on besides the grumpy old lady.”

They both look over at Lemon as she lets out a low yowl.

“He didn’t mean that, Lemon. We both know you’re young and lively.”

Pat laughs and kisses Jonny’s cheek, “Big happy family.”

“Of course,” Jonny agrees happily.

Yeah, it was tough dating a superhero. Pat still disappeared randomly—sometimes in the middle of the night and sometimes during their dates. Sometimes Pat came home injured with burns or cuts that he couldn’t go to the hospital for, for risk of being outed. Jonny fussed about him daily, but...but it was nice, too. Pat like…he cuddled Jonny a lot and gave him new kittens and made him free coffee, and he ranted about things like numbers. Pat is adorable; he’s a superhero, but he’s adorable.

“You ready for dinner?” Jonny asks.

The grin Pat sends him makes Jonny never want to leave him…ever.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, the city they're in is literally called The City  
> I'm on tumblr under Loochskywalker!  
> follow me there as well


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